Situation Room Poem by Ryan Tyger
Situation Room
Ask me again, I beg of no man.Shamed aloft the room with three pains, glass.Macabre my thoughts, so subtle and kept dry, the allure caught sent of this day, sigh.Olivers twist of fate, and flight of the intruders, out the back door they made their escape, those vexens of the night.The ripple distorts, leaving such a course.Three pains of glass.the shades, half mast.
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4/19/2024 12:23:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
